


She's With Me

by Cherienymphe



Series: Mafias, Mobs, and Bikers [6]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bikers, Coercion, Dubious Consent, F/M, Gangs, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:34:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28870125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherienymphe/pseuds/Cherienymphe
Summary: Despite your blood, you always stayed out of the conflict between the bikers in town, but one choice throws you in head first.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Series: Mafias, Mobs, and Bikers [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2116857
Comments: 3
Kudos: 60





	1. She's With Me

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: DUB-CON, biker!Peter Parker, a side of dark!Steve Rogers, hints of non-con
> 
> PLEASE DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU

You finished rearranging some things behind the counter, glancing at the clock. You had 10 minutes left until it was time to close the pharmacy. The owner, Mr. Banner, had the day off and today had been a slow day, something you were grateful for.

You’d been up late again last night, waiting for Sam to come home. He was normally in the door before 11, but he’d been coming home much later as of late. You tried not to let it worry you, but it couldn’t be helped. His late nights told you that things were becoming tense down at the bar, and when things became tense, they became dangerous.

Almost as if you’d conjured it up, said danger came bursting through the door. You looked up as the bell hanging on the door rang and watched in confusion as Clint hurried inside. Your confusion bled to fear and anger as you noticed the dried blood on his hands.

“No, no, no. Clint, you can’t-.”

“There are two of them and one of me, Y/N. I just need to hide in the back for ten minutes tops and then I’ll be out of here,” he said, glancing out of the window.

You were conflicted. Clint wasn’t just someone you knew, he was Sam’s friend. Practically like brothers. On the other hand, your boss would kill you if he found out that you’d let one of the biker’s hide in his shop. If any of the others even _thought_ the store was choosing a side, both you and Mr. Banner would be done for.

You bit your lip, glancing away with a heavy sigh.

“Ten minutes,” you mumbled.

You turned to look busy as he ran into the back, heart feeling like a hummingbird in your chest. You prayed that no one saw him run in here, or even suspected it, but your prayers weren’t answered. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you heard the bell ring again, and with the warmest smile you could muster, you turned around.

“Hi, welcome in!”

You inwardly cursed when your eyes met familiar green ones. Rhodey was behind her, and him you could deal with. The men in the club had a strict rule about harming women and children. However, the first part of that rule didn’t extend to the women in the club, and while Nat had never had a personal problem with you despite your blood, you knew she wouldn’t hold back if she was sure Clint was back there.

“Y/N,” she greeted. “Long time, no see…”

You threw her a small smile, glancing at Rhodey as he stood back and watched. You knew what he was watching for. He was ex-military and was known for reading people like a book. You kept your expression warm, fighting the urge to fidget.

“Is there anything I can get you?”

She smiled at you, but you weren’t fooled. It wasn’t friendly.

“Actually, there is. We’re looking for Clint. We thought we saw him run this way and were wondering if you’ve seen him.”

You frowned, brows furrowing in feigned confusion.

“No, I haven’t seen him all day,” you replied.

“You sure about that?” Rhodey asked.

You looked at him, shrugging.

“We’ve been stupid slow today. Believe me, if he’d run by here, I definitely would’ve noticed.”

There was a brief silence, one filled with tension before Nat stepped up to the counter, placing her arms on it as she regarded you. Her bright red hair spilled over her shoulder as she tilted her head at you.

“I like you, Y/N,” she sincerely started, and you swallowed. “Despite everything, I’ve always liked you. Do you know why?”

“No,” you whispered.

“I like you because you don’t involve yourself in matters that don’t concern you. Despite all of the pressure I’m sure you’ve endured from your brother’s friends, you have always stayed in your place,” she said, eyes hard. “Don’t ruin it.”

Despite the fear in you, you didn’t back down.

“Nat…I already told you. I haven’t seen Clint all day,” you reiterated.

Surprise flickered in her eyes, and she smirked.

“Then you won’t mind if we check in the back, will you?”

“Knock yourself out,” you said without hesitation, gesturing to the back.

Natasha’s smirk grew as she backed away, starting towards the back when Rhodey reached out to stop her. He eyed you, and even though you knew what he was going to say, dread filled you.

“Leave it, Nat. If she says he isn’t here, then he isn’t here.”

She suddenly chuckled, glancing at you one last time before reluctantly leaving. Rhodey lingered behind, pity in his eyes as he shook his head. He didn’t say anything else before leaving, but you knew what had just happened. You rushed to the door, flipping the open sign to closed with tears in your eyes.

Clint didn’t emerge until ten minutes after you’d closed, and you crossed your arms over your chest as you glared at him. His face was apologetic, but it wasn’t enough to appease you.

“Y/N-.”

“I can’t lose this job, Clint. I _need_ this job, and when Mr. Banner finds out I-!”

“Hey, hey. Bruce isn’t going to find out, okay? Calm down,” he said, placing his hand on your shoulder.

You shook it off.

“I think he’ll know something’s up when they set this place on fire. They knew I was lying. Why were you running from them, anyway?” you demanded.

He sighed, flexing his bruised knuckles.

“I got into it with Tony,” he confessed.

You scoffed in disbelief.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you whispered. “Tony? Of all people…”

He rushed to defend himself, but you cut him off.

“Just go, Clint.”

“We can protect you-.”

“No, no! I don’t want any favors, protection, or anything from any of you.”

He gave you a reproachful look.

“This is ridiculous, and you know it. I don’t know why Sam even agrees to this idiotic-.”

“Because I don’t want anything to do with any of this, and Sam feels the same way. This has never been my fight,” you spat.

Clint laughed, but it lacked humor.

“Yeah, okay. We’ll see how much longer that lasts.”

He brushed your shoulder as he left, and you rolled your eyes. Your nerves helped you clean and close up shop that much faster. You threw your purse over your shoulder as you locked up, gripping your keys in your hand. You hadn’t known what to expect, but you definitely didn’t expect to see your tires deflated as you approached your car.

“Fuck.”

If it were one flat tire, or hell, even two, you would have chanced it, but driving with four flat tires was unthinkable. You huffed, nervously glancing around, but you were sure they were long gone. You just knew it was Nat’s doing.

“Bitch,” you mumbled, taking out your phone.

Your anger only increased when Sam didn’t answer his phone, and when it went to voicemail the second time you called, you knew that he must be in a stupid meeting. Now you were starting to worry. It seemed like you didn’t have any choice but to walk home, and that…that was stupid.

A little voice told you that wasn’t your only option.

You grimaced, tightening your hand on your phone. Heat rose to your face as your finger hovered over Steve’s number, wondering if it was worth it. You knew that if you called Steve, he’d come in a heartbeat…but he wouldn’t come without a price. You clenched your jaw, harshly throwing your phone into your purse.

You’d walk home before you ever accepted help from Steve.

Your house wasn’t that far, and normally you wouldn’t be scared to walk home. It was a small town where everyone knew everyone, and before, that had been a good thing, but not now. You had pissed off Tony and his crew by hiding Clint, and although it was practically a death wish to walk home, you’d honestly rather die before accepting Steve’s help.

It was quiet, hardly anyone on the road. You wondered if Sam would be coming home late again. You should’ve left town a long time ago, but ever since that night Sam had come home bleeding from his shoulder, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. What if he got hurt again? Or worse?

You heard the engine of a bike coming from behind you, and your heart skipped a beat. It only sped up when the bike slowed, and you were forced to come to a stop when it swerved in front of you, cutting you off. Your eyes met familiar brown ones, and while relief flowed through you, you didn’t completely relax.

Despite the fact that the two of you had gone to school together and were always decent to one another, he was still a part of Tony’s crew, probably joined before you two even graduated. You were far from friends. He turned the engine off, looking at you with a frown. He was sans the leather jacket tonight, dark gray t-shirt clinging to him.

“Wilson,” he greeted, almost too cheerfully.

You folded your arms over your chest.

“Parker.”

“You shouldn’t be out here, you know,” he said, leaning on the handles of the bike, dark hair windblown.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” you replied, rolling your eyes.

He eyed you for a moment before a slow grin formed along his lips.

“Nat slash your tires?”

You didn’t answer him, but you didn’t need to. He laughed, a rich sound in the otherwise quiet night.

“You can’t be surprised. I heard you were hiding Barton.”

You sighed, dropping your arms.

“Yeah…well…”

There wasn’t any point in denying it. You hadn’t fooled them.

“For someone who wants to stay out of all of this, you’re doing a pretty crappy job,” he told you.

“Is there something you need, Parker? Or are you just here to distract me until Tony shows up and breaks my ankles?”

He opened his mouth to answer when the roar of more motorcycles was heard from down the street. Your eyes widened, and you glanced over your shoulder, brows furrowed.

“They’re looking for Barton, tonight.”

You turned back around in shock, and you suddenly wondered just how bad Clint had gotten into it with Tony. You couldn’t place the look in Peter’s eyes, a cross between pity and worry as he eyed you.

“I’m actually supposed to be looking for him, right now, but I saw you. If they come across you before him…”

He trailed off and fear settled in your chest. He pointedly looked over his shoulder at his seat, and you swallowed, accepting that you literally didn’t have any other choice. You wrapped your arms around him as he started the engine, tightening your hold around his torso.

You weren’t unfamiliar with a motorcycle, Sam driving you around plenty of times when you were younger. If he knew that you were on the back of Peter Parker’s bike, he’d kill both of you. You didn’t even want to imagine what Steve would do.

Your house wasn’t far, and your shoulders sagged as he pulled into your yard. You wouldn’t be completely relieved until you were inside though.

“Thank you,” you murmured as you hopped off of the bike.

He didn’t respond, but he did reach out to stop you when you moved to go inside. He let go of your shirt as you turned to face him, apprehension flowing through you. There was a frown on his face as he looked at you.

“You might want to call out of work tomorrow,” he eventually whispered.

You looked away from him and your heart sank as you registered his words. You swallowed your fear and chuckled.

“They’re going to kick your ass for snitching, Parker.”

He grinned at you.

“Who’s snitching? I just think you should take a day off to destress from today’s events,” he smartly responded.

You shook your head.

“No… I can’t leave Mr. Banner there alone. Besides, my car is still at the parking lot, and I don’t even know how I’m going to explain that to Sam. If he finds out Nat slashed my tires, things are just going to get worse.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” he mumbled, confirming what you already knew.

You heard engines coming down the street, and he glanced over his shoulder.

“You should get inside,” he suggested.

He was right. You thanked him again and followed his suggestion. You locked the door with a tired sigh, wondering how you’d gotten more involved in one night than you ever had before.

.

.

.

“I’m not just going to leave Mr. Banner there by himself, Sam!”

“For the last time, Wanda and Bucky will be there-.”

“No, absolutely not.”

You heard Steve heave an irritated sigh, and you pretended like you hadn’t heard him.

“Sending them down there will just send the message that Mr. Banner has chosen a side, and he hasn’t. He never has-!”

“I think you chose for him when you took in Clint yesterday,” Steve sharply interrupted, raising an eyebrow at you.

You glowered at him, raising your own eyebrow.

“He’s _your_ lackey, isn’t he? And he was outnumbered. Where were you?” you demanded.

Sam crossed his arms over his chest as he glared at you.

“You’re not going in today,” he repeated before Steve could respond, conviction coloring his tone.

“Are you going to tie me up and lock me in my room?” you mockingly wondered.

Sam shifted, staring at you, but otherwise kept quiet. A chuckle bubbled in your throat, and you never took your eyes off of him as you grabbed your purse off of the couch.

“I’m going to work, now. You have a good day,” you slowly told him.

You didn’t spare Steve a glance as you walked past him, slamming the door behind you. You had just stepped off the porch and onto the grass when you heard the door open and close behind you. Something in you told you that it wasn’t Sam. You were right because Sam would never grab you like Steve did.

If looks could kill, he would’ve been 6 feet under when you turned around. He didn’t look very happy with you either, but you didn’t care. He took a deep breath, visibly calming himself down.

“You don’t want to get involved, and I respect that. Mostly because Sam doesn’t want you involved either, but… You made a decision yesterday, Y/N.”

“Fuck off, Steve,” you threw at him.

He yanked you closer, and you stumbled into his chest. Your eyes were wide as you looked at him, anger covering your face. His blue eyes were hard as he glared at you.

“You don’t talk to me like that,” he lowly said.

“…and you don’t tell me what to do. As much as you wish otherwise, I’m not one of your bitches. The day I listen to you will be the day I throw myself into a bonfire.”

He exhaled through his nose, jaw clenching as his grip tightened.

“You made a decision yesterday, a decision that puts you in danger. Even Sam agrees that for the sake of your safety, you are one of us, and you will be protected like one of us,” he spat.

“Mr. Banner-.”

“Screw Bruce and to hell with the job. I’m talking about your _life_.”

You swallowed as he reached up to place his other hand on your arm, tracing circles into your skin with his thumb.

“I want to keep you safe,” he whispered.

You jerked out of his grip, and his face fell.

“I know exactly what you want, Steve.”

He didn’t respond, and you tightened your purse on your shoulder as you turned to go to work. You didn’t have time for Steve and his demands. You instead thought about Peter’s warning and was afraid of what you would find when you got to work. It was early in the morning, so the parking lot was empty aside from your car…and Mr. Banner’s car. You slowed to a stop as you neared the pharmacy.

The window was broken, and paint was splattered along the door. Mr. Banner was standing outside, arms crossed, and mouth parted in shock. He threw his hands up as you reached him.

“I don’t believe this. Did this happen last night?”

“I think so,” you quietly replied.

“Why?” he wondered with a shrug, bewildered.

You already felt bad enough, and you didn’t want to keep the truth from him.

“Its…my fault,” you admitted.

He turned to you, confusion coloring his face.

“…what? Why would you say that?”

You sighed, glancing away.

“Clint needed somewhere to hide…,” you trailed off when he sighed, running his hand through his dark curls.

“Y/N.”

“I know, but… He was outnumbered. I was worried,” you told him.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he placed his hands on his hips.

“No, no…its fine. I probably would’ve done the same,” he confessed. “This was inevitable. Neither one of us could stay out of this forever.”

You believed him, but you still felt bad. He unlocked the door, and you followed him inside. Glass crunched beneath your feet.

“At least this was all they did,” he said, relieved. “We’ll have to remain closed today to deal with this.”

You set your purse down on the counter before grabbing some paper towels from behind it. You heard Mr. Banner go in the back, grabbing a broom no doubt. When you turned towards the door, you were surprised to see a familiar face on the other side of the paint.

You pursed your lips, narrowing your eyes at him before pushing on the door. Hard. He stumbled back, and you stepped outside, frowning at him.

“Did you do this?” you halfheartedly accused.

Peter ran his hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face as he took another step back.

“Yeah,” he confessed.

Your eyes widened, not expecting him to say yes. You shoved him, and he let you.

“Are you kidding me, Parker?”

“Hey,” he barked, stepping towards you. “It was either me or Nat, and she wanted to burn the place down.”

“I guess this is the part where I thank you, right?” you sarcastically asked.

He didn’t respond, instead holding up a rag you hadn’t noticed. A strange odor was coming from it, and you crinkled your nose.

“Paint remover,” he said.

You eyed him, skeptical as he began wiping down the door. You leaned against the clean window that was perfectly intact.

“Won’t you get in trouble or something?”

A mocking smile was on his lips as he glanced up at you.

“For what? I did what I was told to do, and that was to give a little warning. They aren’t going to beat me for helping you clean up.”

You didn’t respond to that.

“Is that what Steve is telling you over there? Or is that how _he_ runs things?”

“I wouldn’t know how Steve runs things. I don’t make it a habit of interacting with him,” you sneered.

Peter laughed, almost done with the door now.

“I get the feeling you don’t like your brother’s best friend very much.”

You looked away, anger coursing through you at the thought of Steve.

“You could say that,” you mumbled.

You felt Peter’s eyes on you, and when you looked over, he had stopped wiping. He was looking up at you with a small frown on his face.

“Any reason why?”

You sighed, sitting down beside his squatting form. You focused your eyes on your car, refusing to meet Peter’s eyes.

“Steve is used to getting what he wants…and he’s not so nice when he doesn’t.”

Peter was quiet, but his gaze was heavy. He didn’t say anything more, but he finished cleaning the door in no time. Mr. Banner had swept up the glass and was going to work on boarding up the window. He was surprised to see Peter when he came outside, concern filling his eyes as he looked between you two.

“Everything alright?” he asked, eyeing Peter’s leather jacket, more specifically the red patch on the chest.

“Parker was just helping,” you told him as you both straightened.

Your boss didn’t look convinced but nodded anyway. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

“I’ll take care of the window. You should go home, Y/N. I know Sam probably didn’t want you to come down here anyway.”

“Are you sure? I can help with the window,” you argued.

He shook his head, a small smile on his face. He glanced at Peter again.

“I’m positive. You shouldn’t be here.”

Disappointment filled you as you realized he had the same sentiments as Sam, but you nodded and went inside to grab your purse, nonetheless. You could hear him talking to Peter, but it was too low for you to hear. By the time you made it back outside, they were quiet. You waved Mr. Banner goodbye as he went back inside, but not without one last lingering look at Peter.

“What was that about?” you asked, looking between them.

A crooked smile graced Peter’s lips.

“Something about hell to pay if I hurt you,” he didn’t sound concerned.

You glanced around, taking a couple of steps forward.

“Where’s your bike? I thought those things came attached to your legs…”

“I walked,” he said with a shrug, following you.

“I hope you don’t plan on walking with me to my house. When I left, both Sam _and_ Steve were there, and…”

Your words died in your throat as the roar of an engine was heard approaching. You both looked over, and your eyes widened as none other than Steve approached the parking lot.

“Go,” you suddenly told Peter.

Peter bumped his shoulder against yours, hand grazing the back of your arm.

“You first,” he half teased.

You turned to him, straight-faced.

“Parker, I’m serious. Steve can’t see you with me,” you warned him.

He slid his hands in his pockets as he turned to face you too, dark eyes studying you. You wondered if he could detect the concern in your voice. Concern for him, not you.

“Why not?”

“You know why,” you scoffed.

He tilted his head at you, brows furrowed.

“No… There’s another reason why…,” he slowly said.

You swallowed, glancing at Steve.

“Peter…”

He glanced at Steve too, eyes thoughtful before resting his gaze on you again.

“He put out a claim on you…didn’t he?”

“God, no,” you scoffed, looking away. “Sam would kill him.”

You tried to play it off, but you wouldn’t meet his eyes, and you couldn’t fool him.

“…but he wants to.”

“I can handle Steve,” you said, ignoring his accusation as you looked at him. “…but I can’t handle him with you here.”

He eyed you for much longer than you would have liked. With reluctance, he listened to you, eventually slipping away just before Steve pulled in front of the pharmacy, but not without one last look at you. You were walking past Steve just as he cut the engine.

“Was that Parker?”

You glanced at him, feigning confusion.

“What? Yeah, he came by to see Mr. Banner. I don’t know what for,” you said with a shrug.

He didn’t look like he believed you but opted to let it go. After all, he couldn’t prove that you were lying. He held his arm out and stopped you when he noticed you weren’t taking your car, and you swore.

“What’s wrong with your car?”

You opened your mouth to come up with something, but he was already getting off of his bike, eyes narrowing at your tires as he approached the vehicle.

“Who did this?” he demanded.

“I don’t know,” you quickly lied.

He turned and stared you down, studying you. He glanced back to where Peter had gone, jaw clenching as he directed his cold blue eyes back to you.

“Was it Parker?” he wondered.

It seemed a normal enough question, but there was something else lacing his tone that told you it was more than about just the tires. You snorted, caught off guard by the ridiculousness of that question because you knew Natasha did it.

“What? No.”

“I thought you said you didn’t know,” he threw at you, stepping closer.

“I don’t, but it doesn’t seem up Parker’s alley. It doesn’t matter, anyway. It’s just tires. I have money saved up.”

He blocked your path as you went to leave, and you swallowed a sigh.

“Money from your little fund?”

You cut your eyes to him with a glare. He stood up straight, fingers placed on his hips, holding his jacket away from him. He was trying to intimidate you, like always.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to, Y/N. You think this job is going to help you get away from this town? Away from _me_?”

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of responding, waiting for him to move. Steve stepped closer, lips at your ear as he leaned in.

“I will burn down every business in this community if it keeps you from leaving.”

You curled your hands into fists as he brushed his lips along your cheek, strands of blond hair tickling your face. He finally pulled away before stepping out of your path, a sickly-sweet smile on his pink lips.

“You have a good day,” he threw your words from earlier back in your face.

You ignored him as you walked past, but you couldn’t ignore the way his words took root, fear growing in your chest.

.

.

.

You returned to work the next day and all was normal aside from the boarded-up window, but you had let yourself breathe too soon. A week later, your boss had called you an hour before you were supposed to go in. He’d told you to stay home, that there was no point in coming in because the entire place was trashed. You had hung up the phone with wide eyes, stunned.

Part of you had considered it was Steve, but you knew that Steve was a man of his word if nothing else. He would’ve simply thrown a match and been done with it. No, you knew this was the work of Tony.

Sam was far from opposed to you staying home, only checking on you every few hours or so. Eventually evening came, and he had to leave. You knew he was going down to the bar with the rest of the crew, and that was when you made your move.

The other bar was on the other side of town, and the whole drive there you kept reminding yourself how much of a suicide mission this was. You’d only _just_ gotten your tires replaced and here you were just begging to have them slashed again. No one was really outside when you arrived, but the parking lot was filled with nothing but motorcycles. You would be lying if you said you weren’t scared.

You could hear the music and rowdy drunkenness of the crowd as soon as you stepped out of the car. You were tempted to get back in and pretend this never happened, but you had come this far already. Besides, you weren’t doing this for you.

It was even louder than you could have imagined inside the bar. The air was thick and cloudy with smoke, but that didn’t prevent anyone from recognizing you. You ignored the strange, and borderline hostile, looks you received, instead searching the crowd for the man in charge.

You jumped when an unfamiliar man gripped your arm, pulling you towards him as he ran his eyes over you.

“You need help finding something, sweetheart?”

“No, thank you,” you replied, tugging on your arm, but he wouldn’t budge.

He pressed himself against you, looking down at you with a glare.

“I think you’re lost… _Wilson_ ,” he sneered.

A few people around you turned to eye the exchange, but a familiar figure stepped in between you and the stranger, and relief flowed through you. If he kept this up, you were going to have to start owing him for his services.

Parker pressed his hand against the man’s chest, his other coming to land on your hip.

“Hey,” he warned, pushing the man away. “This one’s mine. She’s with me.”

You were smart enough not to argue with that statement, allowing him to wrap his arm around your waist as he pulled you away. You didn’t make eye contact with anyone as he led you into the corner of the bar, forcing you into a booth before sliding in beside you. He pressed one hand onto the table and the other onto the back of the seat, blocking you from sight.

“Are you insane?” he questioned, damp brown hair kissing his forehead.

“I need to speak to Tony,” you told him.

Peter rolled his eyes.

“Of course, you’re here to see Mr. Stark. No, it couldn’t have been Nat or Vision even, but Tony Stark himself,” he scoffed.

“I need to talk to him about the pharmacy-.”

“That was Nat’s handiwork,” he told you.

“But Tony ordered it, right? Look, I’m the one who hid Clint that day. Mr. Banner has nothing to do with this, and I just want you all to leave him and his shop alone. This is purely on me,” you pleaded.

Peter ran his eyes over you, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. He eventually sighed.

“You’re killing me, Wilson,” he mumbled, looking away. “You came all the way down here to plead someone else’s case?”

“What case? He didn’t do anything!”

He sharply cut his eyes to you, and you swallowed at the brief anger you saw there, unexpected from him.

“You’re on my side of the street, Wilson. For your sake, and for my reputation, you can’t talk to me like that in here.”

“Sorry,” you eventually mumbled.

You were in his bar, trapped by him, and surrounded by the rest of his crew. If Parker were any other person, they would have made an example out of you. It was crazy enough that you even walked in here, let alone forgetting just where ‘here’ was.

“Yeah, okay,” he sighed out. “I’ll talk to Tony. He’s in the back…”

You watched as he slipped out of his jacket, the black tee clinging to him. He threw the heavy leather over your shoulders, and you couldn’t help but to inhale the scent of him. He pulled on the ends of the collar of the jacket, yanking you closer until his lips suddenly met yours.

Your eyes were wide, and your hands pressed against his chest, but his grip was solid. His lips were soft and had the faintest taste of alcohol. One of his hands slid to your neck, thumb pressing just under your jaw as he tilted your head back. He swiped his tongue over your bottom lip just before pulling away. You blinked.

“Stay here and keep the jacket on,” he murmured, lips brushing yours. “Understand?”

“Yeah,” you breathed.

“I’m serious. Do not take this jacket off and do _not_ leave.”

You nodded as he stood, pointing at the jacket one last time with raised eyebrows before disappearing into the crowd. You rubbed your lips. You knew why he did that, but it didn’t mean you had to like it. You kept your eyes on the table as you waited, fiddling with your thumbs until you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket.

You rolled your eyes when you pulled it out, declining Steve’s call. He was the last person you wanted to talk to. Before he had the chance to call again, you turned your location off and put it on do not disturb. You looked up in time just to see none other than Nat slide into the seat across from you. There was a grin on her bright red lips.

“Y/N,” she greeted, surprise in her tone. “I never thought I’d see you here.”

“Nat,” you tersely replied.

She eyed the jacket around your shoulders before the corner of her mouth pulled upwards into a smirk.

“Sam know you’re here…wearing Peter’s jacket?”

You didn’t respond, and she laughed.

“I may not like you as much as I did before, Wilson, but I definitely respect you a whole lot more. It takes guts to walk in here,” she said, taking a sip of her beer.

“Well, I’m not here for me.”

“Ah. The shop. Its nothing personal, hope you know that.”

“It never is,” you sarcastically murmured.

You both looked over as Peter approached the booth. He glanced at Nat with a frown before taking your hand and pulling you out.

“Having fun?” he threw at her.

“I am actually, but not as much fun as you apparently,” she responded, eyeing your clasped hands.

Peter started to pull you away, but Nat reached out to grip your arm. You looked down at her as she looked between you two.

“You should watch yourself around that one,” she warned, pointing her beer at Peter.

“Quit trying to scare her, Nat-.”

“I’m simply reminding the girl that you’re one of us for a reason. I know you think he just rides around busting up shops for us and taking candy from babies, but he’s not as innocent as he looks.”

You allowed Peter to pull you away, only turning away from Nat when the crowd hid her from view. You knew she was right. They didn’t let just anyone join…but you’d rather take your chances with Parker than anyone else.

It was much cooler when you stepped outside, and you moved to give Peter his jacket back as you neared your car. He pushed it back in your hands, shaking his head.

“I think you should keep it for a while.”

“And let Sam see? Are you drunk, Parker?”

He eyed you, eyes dark.

“Sam…or Steve?”

You blinked, looking down before shaking your head and handing it back to him. He gripped it, running his eyes over you, raising an eyebrow.

“You know it’s only a matter of time before he runs out of patience, right?”

“Hopefully, I’ll be long gone by then,” you whispered.

“Unless you plan on skipping town _tomorrow_ , I don’t think that’s going to happen,” he argued, shaking his head.

“I can handle Steve,” you confidently told him.

He clenched his jaw as he looked over you again, dropping his jacket.

“Can you?”

Before you knew what was happening, you were pinned to your car. You reached up, clawing at Peter’s arm as he tightened his grip on your throat. You let out a choked gasp as he pressed himself against you, and you could feel his hard chest beneath the thin shirt.

His nose brushed against yours as you kicked at his legs, but he paid your attempts no attention. You swung at his face, but he caught your hand, squeezing your wrist.

“You can’t even stop me,” he quietly started. “…and Steve is twice the size I am.”

He shook you, and you felt your chest start to burn. He lightly brushed his lips against yours, eyelashes fluttering.

“I could do anything I wanted to you, and there isn’t anything you could do about it.”

He suddenly let you go, backing away, and you coughed, gasping for air. You heard him pick up his jacket, and you glared at him as you rubbed your throat.

“He’s going to get fed up eventually,” he told you. “I may not know him all that well, but a certain type of guy is drawn to this lifestyle.”

“You don’t think I know that Parker? Trust me, you’re preaching to the choir,” you spat at him.

There were tears in your eyes as you cleared your throat, and you glanced away when Peter leaned an elbow on the hood of your car, resting his head against his hand as he gazed at you. You crossed your arms over your chest as it became hard to swallow all of a sudden.

“What doesn’t Sam know?”

You turned your head away, tears skipping down your cheeks.

“Did he hurt you?” he demanded.

You shrugged.

“Not…not really…”

He didn’t reply, and you accepted that he wasn’t going to let it go. You wiped at your face, not quite believing that you were about to tell him what you had never told anyone.

“It… It was freshman year of college. I had gone out with some friends, nothing too exciting. We just hung out in a parking lot and got pretty drunk. They drove home, but I didn’t want to. I’m no saint, but drunk driving isn’t cute,” you tearfully laughed.

You swallowed.

“I didn’t want Sam to know…so I called Steve.”

Peter heavily exhaled, clearly guessing where this was going.

“We weren’t even five minutes up the street before he pulled over. I was so drunk and…and I could barely walk straight let alone fight him off. But I did. He was driving me back in my car, and I keep a hunting knife in my glove compartment. I stabbed him, he ran off, and I spent the night in my car.”

Peter’s hand was on your shoulder, and you finally looked at him. His brows were furrowed as he looked over you with worry.

“I got in trouble with Sam, anyway and Steve came up with some lie about a bar fight,” you chuckled. “At first, I think he thought I was too drunk to remember, but I couldn’t act normal around him even if I wanted to. It became obvious that I remembered everything, but he didn’t care.”

You rolled your eyes.

“He knows that he’s going to get what he wants eventually. He knows I won’t just leave Sam.”

You ran your hands down your face with a groan.

“You’re right, Parker. Unless I leave town tomorrow,” you trailed off with a shrug.

You tried not to dwell on it and unlocked your door.

“Thanks for talking to Tony for me. You didn’t have to do that,” you told him, opening your door.

He leaned on it, head peaking over as he looked down at you.

“It wasn’t a problem. I mean, you’re right. Mr. Banner doesn’t have anything to do with this, and Mr. Stark agreed. This is purely about you.”

You didn’t like the way he said that, but it brought you back to reality fast. For a moment, you’d almost forgotten what bar you were at and who you were talking to. You yanked on your door, and he stepped back with a smile.

“You really need to stop doing me favors, Parker.”

His laugh was the last thing you heard before you closed the door and drove off.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Another week went by, but it was better than the last. You’d helped your boss clean up the pharmacy and try to get things back to normal to reopen. It hadn’t been touched by anyone else since the night you spoke to Peter. The first few days afterwards, you thought that maybe he’d lied. You had grown paranoid, but it became clear that Tony was planning on keeping his word.

Things seemed to be as they were before. No one came by looking to hide in the pharmacy, and no one vandalized it. You’d see Peter in passing, riding around with the rest of them, like you normally did, and Sam continued to come home late into the night.

Until he didn’t.

You were seated on the couch, knees pulled up to your chest with your eyes glued to the tv. You weren’t watching it though. You were just trying to focus on something other than the paralyzing fear that gripped you. You glanced at the time again, throwing your head back.

4:17…am.

You had already called Mr. Banner, apologizing profusely for calling at a ridiculous time, but you had to let him know that you wouldn’t be coming in. You were either going to be looking for Sam…or killing him. It all depended on what would happen in the next hour or so.

You perked up when you heard a motorcycle pulling into the yard. Relief flowed through you as you jumped off of the couch and ran to the door. You heard another, and you swung the door open, running outside. Your sprint came to a stop when your eyes only landed on Steve and Bucky.

Bucky swung off of his bike, hair drenched in sweat. He looked like he had just come back from war, and as you eyed Steve, you realized he didn’t look any better.

“Where’s Sam?”

Neither one of them answered you, and your face fell.

“Bucky…”

He heaved a tired sigh, walking towards you. You looked between them.

“Let’s go inside first,” he said, reaching for you.

“No. Where is Sam?” you repeated, moving away from his hand.

“He’s alright-.”

“Then where is he?” you demanded.

Before he could say anything, Steve was squeezing the hell out of your arm. You yelped in pain as he pulled you along, forcing you up the steps. You stumbled, almost tripping if it hadn’t been for his grip. You fell against the couch when he finally let you go, and Bucky closed the door as he followed.

You tried not to cry, but you couldn’t help it. You knew what Bucky was going to say before he even spoke.

“They took him, sweetheart,” he sadly told you.

You dropped your face into your hands, shoulders shaking. You heard something hit the wall. Steve’s fist, no doubt. You felt Bucky’s prosthetic hand gripping your trembling shoulder.

“How?” you eventually asked, hands falling.

Bucky moved to answer, but your question wasn’t directed at him. You turned to Steve, chest heaving.

“How did you let this happen?”

He glared at you, the angriest you’d ever seen him.

“Don’t start with me, Y/N. Not tonight,” he said.

“Is that an order?”

He exhaled through his nose, walking towards you until you could smell the sweat that clung to his skin.

“No, but this is: go upstairs, go to sleep, and let us handle this.”

“Yes, because you’re doing such a fine job of that so far,” you sneered.

The words were barely out of your mouth when he wrapped his hand around your neck, slamming you into the wall. You winced in pain as you reached out to hit him, but he batted your hands away like flies.

“Steve,” Bucky warned, stepping closer.

“I am _sick_ of your smart mouth, sick of you walking around like you’re not one of us, because _you are_.”

He pressed harder on your throat, and you gasped. You heard Bucky’s phone ring, and he cursed, turning around to answer it. Steve glanced at his back before cutting his eyes back to you.

“You’re not above what I say, and I’m tired of entertaining your delusion that you are,” he whispered.

“Fuck you,” you choked out.

He placed his other hand on the wall beside your head, caging you in. You cringed as he brushed his lips against yours, Bucky too preoccupied on the phone to notice.

“You are not leaving this house, you are not leaving this town, and you are not leaving me. Go upstairs and get a good night’s rest while we work on getting Sam back. Is that clear?”

You glared at him, and he tightened his grip.

“Crystal,” you squeaked, a tear escaping.

Steve wiped it away and placed a brief kiss on your lips before finally letting you go. Your chest heaved as air filled your lungs again. He placed his hand on your back, pushing you towards the stairs. You didn’t look back as you ascended, but you felt his eyes on you.

Despite Steve’s demand, you didn’t sleep. Instead, you waited. You waited for them to leave. It took a whole hour, but eventually you heard the rumble of their motorcycles before they pulled out of your yard. With a heavy heart, you grabbed your keys and ran out of the door.

You were shaking, and it took almost a full minute for you to finally get them in the ignition. Tears ran down your face as you pulled away from your house, leg vibrating so much that it made it difficult to drive. It only got worse when it started to rain. Between the tears and the showers, you didn’t know how you even made it to Peter’s house.

You almost drove into it, quite literally, before slamming on breaks. Your forehead hit the steering wheel, and you winced. You would have a splitting headache at worst. You turned the car off, rushing out without bothering to lock it before running to the door. Your fists banged on the wood, hurting your hands in the process.

You didn’t even know what you were doing here. You and Peter weren’t friends, not even close. Besides, you weren’t even sure there was anything he _could_ do. The last time he had talked to Tony, it was for your boss’ _store_. This was just a tad bit more serious than that. Tony and Steve have been fighting for _years_. One talk wasn’t just going to have him handing Sam over.

You looked up at Peter with wide eyes as he swung the door open. You took in his bare chest and the sweatpants that hung low on his hips. He was blinking at you, rubbing his eye before running his hand through his hair. Of course, he had been asleep. You almost felt bad. Almost.

“Wilson,” he grumbled. “What are you doing here?”

“They got Sam?”

He blinked, sobering up as he took in your soaked attire and worried face. Realization seemed to hit him, as if he’d just remembered it all.

“Oh… Right.”

“Right? _Right?_ ”

He spread his arms, placing his hands on the doorjambs as he gazed at you.

“What do you want me to say?” he genuinely wondered, tilting his head to the side.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, wet and freezing and desperate.

“Look, Peter, I know that we aren’t friends, and… I know that you’ve done enough already, but can’t you talk to Tony or something?”

His chest rose and fell as he sighed before pushing off of the wall and stepping back. You closed the door behind you and watched as he grabbed a blanket from the couch. He tossed it at you, and you thanked him as you wrapped it around yourself. He sat on the arm of the couch and faced you, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I can’t talk you out of this one. I’m sorry.”

You tightened the blanket around you, sniffling as you glanced away.

“What are they going to do to him?”

“Does it matter?”

You brought your hand up to cover your face, shoulders shaking as more sobs tore through you. He didn’t say anything, just watched you.

“How could Steve let this happen?”

You heard him move and felt him grab your hand before pulling you away from the door. His eyes were apologetic as he looked at you.

“As much as I can’t stand him, you can’t really blame Steve for this one. It was a trap,” he said with a shrug. “Doesn’t matter who it was, but someone wasn’t coming home tonight. That was a given.”

He sat back on the arm of the couch, still holding your hand. You tried to calm yourself, but you couldn’t stop shaking, no matter how much you tried.

“Peter, I can’t…I can’t lose him. He’s the only family I have left, and-and Steve…he…”

You trailed off, recalling his behavior earlier at your house. You knew that no matter the outcome of what happens to Sam, Steve was going to make a move. Peter had predicted it, and the time had come: Steve was out of patience.

Peter took a deep breath, thoughtful as he mulled over your words. His eyes were far away, like he was thinking really hard about something. His face was calculating. A crooked smile eventually graced his lips, and hope bloomed in your chest as he looked at you.

“Mr. Stark’s been…taking me under his wing for a while now. I wasn’t surprised when he finally came clean to me about taking over after him,” he confessed.

“What?” you gasped.

He chuckled, a soft boyish sound.

“I mean, he’s not backing down anytime soon, but for when he’s not there…and for when he eventually does step down. I told him no though…”

You were even more shocked to hear that.

“It’s not really my thing… _leading_ , but if I went to him…and told him that I changed my mind…on one condition…,” he trailed off, eyeing you.

Your eyes were wide, hopeful.

“You think…you think that would work?”

“It might.”

You got the feeling that he wasn’t finished, and you were right.

“…but it might not. He might accuse me of being a traitor…he might decide to do something about it,” he quietly continued.

Your heart sank.

“I mean, I’ll do it, but I won’t just stick my neck out for you,” he quickly added.

No, of course not. You wouldn’t expect him to. You pulled away, tightening your arms around yourself.

“No. No, yeah, I…I get it. How much? I have money saved up, way more than what Sam or Steve think,” you told him.

He eyed you, and the lack of light made his eyes look much darker.

“I thought that was your money for when you skip town,” he whispered.

“It is, but… I can make more money. This is my brother we’re talking about,” you quietly replied with a shrug.

He waved you off.

“Save your money, Y/N.”

You blinked, fairly sure it was the first time he’d ever said your name. He didn’t move from his seat, but he did straighten up as he looked at you. Thunder rumbled outside, a flash of lightning briefly illuminated the house. It wasn’t the lack of lighting like you thought, his eyes _were_ darker.

“I don’t want your money… I want someone.”

Your eyes widened at that, and you blinked in realization.

“Steve,” you whispered. “Look, if Steve is what you want…I can get you Steve.”

You would gladly hand over Steve in a heartbeat. Peter laughed, genuinely tickled, and you frowned.

“No, but that’s really good to know in the future.”

Your frown deepened when he stood, walking towards you. You took a step back when he didn’t stop, just kept going.  
“I don’t want Steve,” he slowly told you just as your back hit the wall.

A cold sweat suddenly broke out over you as his chest brushed against yours. He was so close that you could smell the laundry detergent that clung to his sheets. His dark hair brushed along his forehead as he leaned in, and your heart skipped a beat.

You were frozen in shock, ears suddenly filled with more than just the storm outside, but a loud ringing that had your nerves going haywire. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. You couldn’t find them. He pressed one hand into the wall beside your head, and the other soon followed.

“If you want me to stick my neck out for you, I will. If you want me to give up whatever plans I had just to take over after Mr. Stark to free _your_ brother, I will. But if I do…you’re mine.”

Your heart fell to the floor.

“You’re mine tonight, tomorrow, next month…next year.”

You released a shaky breath.

“You’re with _me_.”

You shoved him away from you, and the blanket around you fell to the floor. His face was entirely serious as he stepped back, hands up in surrender as he sat back down on the arm of the couch.

“It’s your choice,” he casually said with a shrug.

“You…you can’t do this, Parker,” you finally spoke.

“I can do whatever I want because it’s not _my_ brother in danger,” he threw at you.

Your lips trembled, more tears falling as you looked away. Your breath sped up as the walls closed in, and you realized…that you were out of options. Just like that first night he’d given you a ride.

“Sam will _hate_ me,” you tearfully told him.

“…but he’ll be alive.”

You shook your head, disbelief filling you at this turn of events. You stumbled back as he rose, walking past you and to the door. The sound of loud rain filled your ears as he opened it.

“You can always walk away,” he whispered.

You glanced outside, watching as the night lit up with another flash of lightning.

“You can always leave. No one has to know about tonight, and you can go back…back to Steve.”

Your eyes met his, and more tears fell. You shook your head, backing up.

“I don’t want to go back to Steve,” you whispered.

Peter slammed the door shut, locking it while his other hand reached out to grip the back of your neck. He pulled you closer, pressing his lips against yours. You gasped against his mouth, and he parted his lips, pushing you back.

“Peter,” you protested, pressing your hands against his chest. “Wait-!”

“My bed,” he breathed into your mouth. “I want you on my bed.”

Your hands slid along the walls, and you felt them slide over a doorjamb. It was soon after that you were falling, and he was falling with you. He pinned you beneath him, and when you tried to scoot back, he moved with you. You tried to sit up, but he pushed you back down, and your head fell back to the bed.

He was quick to rid you of your t-shirt. You had run from the house in it, underwear, and some shoes, in too much of a hurry to consider what you were wearing. You were finally able to take a breather when Peter sat up, reaching for the waistband of his sweats.

“Peter…wait…,” you said, sitting up.

He ran his eyes over you, a flash lighting up the room as rain hit the window.

“For what? Changing your mind…?”

“No,” you argued. “I just…”

He straddled you, tilting your head up as he tilted his own to the side.

“You want me to talk to Mr. Stark, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you eventually whispered.

“Then lay down.”

Reluctantly, you did just that, looking away as he slipped out of his pants. As Peter slid your underwear down your legs, you wondered just how much Sam would hate you…how much they all would hate you. You couldn’t care less about Steve, but Bucky and Clint and Wanda were your friends too. Bucky was like another brother. They were smart though. You were sure they would figure it out…and understand.

You let out a moan when his hand slid between your thighs, brushing his fingers over you until you were a squirming mess beneath him. He groaned into your neck as he slid a finger inside of you, followed by another. He pressed kisses into your skin, curling and twisting his fingers inside of you, your chest heaving against his own.

He pushed himself up to his knees, scooting closer until your thighs were completely spread for him. He brought his other hand up to brush his thumb over your bundle of nerves, and you jerked, stomach clenching. Every stroke of his fingers stroked a fire inside of you, and you reached out to dig your nails into his arms.

“Relax, Wilson,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“I’m…I’m t-trying,” you gasped.

You had a slick remark on your tongue, you were sure, but you forgot it when he curled his fingers inside of you just the right way, forcing you over the edge. Your back arched off of the bed as your mouth parted in a silent scream, clenching around his fingers as he continued to move them inside of you. His other hand pressed on your stomach, pinning you down.

When you finally came down from your high, your chest was heaving, and you were gasping for breath. Peter had your fingers in his mouth as he lowered himself against you again. He kissed you, and you could taste yourself on his lips. He didn’t hesitate before thrusting inside of you, hips connecting with yours.

Your nails pressed into his lower back, and Peter hissed against your lips. He didn’t pause in his movements as he reached back to grip one of your hands, pinning it beside your head. He quickly did the same with the other, intertwining his fingers with your own.

“I’ve gotten enough injuries from Steve and his friends, I don’t need any from you,” he whispered in your ear.

His hold was tight, and your movement was restricted as he repeatedly lifted his hips, thrusting to the hilt every time. You couldn’t swallow your moans even if you wanted to, and they only spurred Peter on. His pace increased and it made your head spin, thighs trembling around him as your eyelashes fluttered.

He pressed kisses to your lips, your jaw, your neck, your shoulder, anywhere he could reach. Low moans left his lips as you clenched around him, and you squeezed his hands.

“You’re so pretty like this,” he murmured. “All fucked out…and desperate…”

He pushed himself up, looking down at you as he slammed his hips against yours. His face was pinched in a mixture of pleasure and concentration, rocking his hips into yours. His grip tightened on your hands as he kissed you again, nipping at your lip.

He let go of one of your hands, palming one of your breasts as he sped up. His brows were furrowed, a thin layer of sweat clinging to his frame, and you were no different. You pressed your chest further into him, squeezing your eyes shut as you whimpered.

Your free hand dug into his shoulder, trying to center yourself but it was impossible. He kept hitting something inside of you that had you gasping his name, pressing your nails into his skin. He let go of your other hand, gripping the hair at the nape of your neck and yanking your head to the side. His teeth scraped along your throat as you fluttered around him.

Peter swore, hips stuttering as your toes curled. Your stomach burned from clenching so much, and you pressed your hand into the sheets, twisting them around your fingers. His lips grazed your ear, and he let out a haughty laugh.

“Steve’s probably planning your wedding…and here you are underneath me, purring for me like a kitten,” he whispered.

He reached down, brushing his thumb over you, swirling it around until you were clenching around him. You fell apart in his arms, breathing heavy as you came, and he didn’t stop.

“Peter,” you gasped, hands sliding over his dewy skin. “Peter-fuck!”

Your words were swallowed by his lips, and he slammed into you one last time, spilling inside of you. You panted into his mouth, tears kissing your eyes as you shook. His heartbeat was wild against your own chest as he dropped his head on the pillow beside yours.

Sleep was right there in your reach, but you couldn’t surrender to it yet. Not without knowing…

“Peter…”

He rolled onto his side, pulling you with him while throwing the sheet of your still trembling frame. He kissed you, hard, and took what little breath you had left.

“It’s 6 in the morning. I’ll call Mr. Stark in a little bit,” he said, playing with your hair.

You swallowed, the severity of what you just did settling in.

“They’re going to hate me,” you whispered, so quiet you were surprised he could hear you.

“Hey,” he said, brushing his lips against yours. “Don’t think about it. Get some rest…”

He rolled the two of you over, pressing his mouth against yours. He pinned your hands down, trailing his lips to your jaw.

“…after I fuck you to sleep.”


	2. She's Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You face the aftermath of your daring decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: NON-CON, VOYEURISM (?), biker!Peter Parker

You were awake for a while, enjoying the silence of the quiet house before eventually opening your eyes. In all the cheesy movies you’d seen, the morning after was usually filled with confusion. The character, male or female, always took a moment to gather their bearings, an entire minute passing before the memories came rushing back. Not you.

You remembered everything.

Peter’s side of the bed was empty, cold even when you slowly slid your hand to the rumpled sheets. The memories of what you did assaulted your mind, and you found yourself clenching at the memory of Peter’s hands on you. Per habit, you glanced around for your phone only to realize that in your haste last night, you hadn’t brought it.

With a sigh, you slid from the bed, taking the sheet with you as you wrapped it around yourself. You glanced around Peter’s room, chuckling at the superhero poster on the back of his door. The rest of the house was just as quiet when you exited, and you looked around with a frown.

“Peter?”

Only silence met you, and part of you wondered if he’d gone to see Tony. You recalled him saying that the plan might not work, that Tony might think him a traitor and decide to deal with him. Your heart clenched at the thought. Yes, Peter had all but forced you into sleeping with him, but it was hard to hate the brown-eyed boy, and despite the turn of events that you had not been all too eager to consent to, you didn’t want to see him hurt.

You decided that you would take the time to go by the house. You needed to get your phone and…well, basically anything you could quickly fit into your car. You wouldn’t be returning home again, that much was clear. Having gone to bed during the early hours of the morning, you’d slept a good chunk of the day away, and Steve nor Bucky should be at your house.

As you got dressed, you wondered if Sam was okay. You wondered if he was free, and if he was…was he home. The quick drive to your house was nerve-wracking, and you were slow as you neared it. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding when you saw that the yard was empty of any motorcycles. You were quick to park and run inside.

Your phone was exactly where you’d left it on your bed. The screen lit up as you scrolled through the endless notifications. Missed call after missed call and text message after text message bombarded you. Most were from Steve. Your heart both swelled and dropped as you read the most recent message that had been sent this morning. It was from Sam.

_What have you done?_

You bitterly smiled at the message, relieved to know that he was okay. With a sad smile, you grabbed your backpack and a duffle bag, yanking clothes out of your drawers before tossing them inside. You were swift as you did so, acknowledging that you had no time to linger. Since Sam was okay, it was highly likely that they were out looking for you and could be back at any moment.

There was no way Sam would ever let you leave, and Steve would be all too eager to trap you as well. The thought of the blond made you shudder, and you quickened your pace. You struggled to drag both bags down the stairs with you, a curse on your lips that you quickly swallowed when you entered the living room.

You stared in shock as Bucky stood at the door, jaw clenched and blue eyes cold. Your mouth parted, wondering why you hadn’t heard the familiar roar of his bike. You tightened your hold on your bags, and a bout of guilt tore through you as you noticed the dark circles underneath his eyes. You swallowed.

“Bucky…”

Your voice was quiet and unsteady. You didn’t know what to say…

“What did you do?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“Is Sam alright?” you questioned, ignoring his own question.

His nostrils flared, and it was then that you noticed the phone in his hand.

“What the hell did you do?” he spat.

“Bucky, please… Is Sam okay?”

He angrily eyed you before huffing a sigh.

“Yeah…yeah he’s alright…”

Tears kissed your eyes as you nodded.

“Good…that’s-that’s good,” you whispered.

Bucky took a step towards you, face softening now as he eyed you, this time worriedly.

“Y/N…what did you do?” he whispered, fear coating his tone. “They just…they just let him go, unharmed and just like that.”

You shook your head, frowning.

“How…how did you even get here? I didn’t hear you-.”

“I was already here. I watched you pull up and walk in. Sam asked me to watch over the house in case you came back. They’re out there looking for _you_!”

You flinched, and for a brief moment, he looked apologetic, but it was gone as quick as it appeared. He heaved another sigh, reaching for you, but you stumbled back, frantically shaking your head.

“I have to go, Bucky-.”

“Absolutely not! I’ve already texted them…” your eyes widened “…they’re on their way.”

“No! Bucky-no! I _have_ to go. You guys can’t keep me here,” you told him.

He crossed his arms over his chest, face stony.

“Watch us.”

“You’ll just make things worse,” you cried, and he frowned at that. “You have to let me go. Th-they’re gonna come for me if you keep me here…”

You barely whispered that last part, and his frown deepened as he worked to understand what you meant. He scoffed a laugh, but it lacked humor.

“What? You’re under their protection now or something?”

You opened your mouth to answer him, a _yes_ right there on your tongue, but it wouldn’t come out. Your heart thudded in your chest, and you caught the way Bucky’s face fell just before you looked away. The silence that followed was thick, and he eventually scoffed in disbelief.

Shock registered on his features when your eyes met his, but that shock quickly bled to understanding then disgust…and finally fury. His eyes hardened, nostrils flaring as his jaw ticked. He stared you down.

“Who?”

You briefly glanced away.

“Peter,” you defeatedly whispered.

It was quite a sight to see Bucky visibly retrain himself from losing control. You noticed the way his lip curled over his teeth and the way his hands clenched into fists. He trembled as he looked away, and his eyes were cold when they met yours again.

“Is that where you were last night?”

“Bucky…please…”

“ _What_ do you think Sam is going to do, how he is going to feel, when he finds out you gave yourself- fucking _sold_ yourself to one of them to save his life? Huh?” he demanded.

You shrugged.

“Sam is safe,” you said, as if that excused what you did.

Bucky’s shoulders sagged, all of the anger seeming to leave him as he released a tired sigh. He rested his hand on your neck, eyes tortured as he gazed at you.

“We…we would’ve gotten him back, doll,” he quietly said.

“Would you?”

He hesitated.

“Yes…eventually,” he admitted.

You shook your head, eyes tearful.

“See! Steve can pretend all he wants, but he had no plan. _None_! None of you knew what to do. I could see it-I could see that you all were scared…and _worried_ …and so I…”

You trailed off with a shrug, eyes wide as you fought to make him understand. You heard the familiar rumble of motorcycles coming down the street, and your heart threatened to jump out of your throat. You glanced at the door and then back to him, eyes pleading.

“Bucky, I’m begging you. You have to let me out of here _now_ ,” you told him.

Not only would keeping you here just stir up more trouble that you’d literally sacrificed yourself to fix, but deep down, you knew why you were really afraid. Sam would be furious with you, but only because he’d be worried. You were his sister, and you’d done the unthinkable to save him. He’d be beyond pissed…but he’d get over it.

Steve would not.

The thought of the blond finding out what you did made you want to throw up, but it’s not like you could tell Bucky that. It’s not like you could tell them what their friend was really like. If you were being honest with yourself, part of you had done what you did to get away from him, and it was looking like it was all for naught.

Bucky at least looked conflicted, but you could see in his eyes that he was not going to do what you asked. In a panic, you dropped your bags and ran towards the kitchen, aiming for the back door. Bucky was faster. His arms wrapped around you and he restrained you with ease. Your feet pushed against the wall, making him stumble on his own feet.

“Y/N, stop-!”

He turned you around, and you shoved yourself away from him with a frustrated scream just as the door opened. You both were huffing, glaring at each other, and this was the sight that your brother and Steve were met with.

“Jesus!”

You were wrapped in familiar arms, and reluctantly, you returned the gesture. Realizing that you wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon, you allowed yourself a moment to breathe him in, basking in the fact that he was alive and well. Sam did the same before eventually pulling away, looking at you with a frown.

“Where the hell were you? What did you do?” he demanded.

You swallowed, unsure of how to tell him.

“You wanna tell them sweetheart, or should I?” Bucky wondered.

You stepped away from Sam, worriedly eyeing him as he looked between you and Bucky. Your eyes briefly met Steve’s who was standing in his usual spot by the window with his arms folded over his chest. There was a myriad of emotions in his eyes, some of which you refused to name, and you watched them narrow just before you looked away.

“Tell us what?” Steve demanded.

“We have a bit of a situation,” Bucky started.

“What _kind_ of situation?” Sam questioned him, but you could feel his heavy gaze on you.

“The kind where Tony and his crew will probably be driving through here in less than an hour,” Bucky replied.

Your eyes met Sam’s.

“Why?” he demanded.

This was directed at you.

“I’m under their protection now,” you quietly told him.

Confusion filled his features, and you noticed Steve straighten up behind him, having heard you.

“What the hell are you talking about? Why?”

It was then that he glanced down, noticing the packed bags. His eyes met yours again, and you could see that he was putting the pieces together but was having a hard time understanding just what he was piecing together.

“Parker gave her an ultimatum she couldn’t exactly refuse,” Bucky chimed in, sarcasm strong.

Sam turned away from you, shoulders heaving, and that’s how you knew just how angry he was. He wouldn’t even look at you. You watched as he ran his hand down his face, the other placed on his hip as he mulled over what you’d done.

Against your better judgement, your eyes met Steve’s again. He looked equal parts stricken and murderous, and you couldn’t help the smug feeling that enveloped you. He took a step away from the window, and you merely raised your chin, eyes sparkling with triumph. You raised an eyebrow at him and watched as his hands clenched into fists.

“So…is that what you were doing this morning? While we were trying to figure out how to get Sam back you were-.”

“Actually doing something to get him back? Yes,” you harshly interrupted, not appreciating Steve’s tone.

“I can’t believe this,” Sam mumbled, looking at you now.

He looked stunned and disgusted and angry and hurt all at once.

“Sam, I have to go,” you whispered.

“Like hell,” Steve said, nearing you.

“ _You_ are not in charge of me! You never have been, and now you never will be,” you spat.

“Steve’s right,” Sam cut in.

“He’s not! None of you are! Do you understand what you’re doing?”

“You’re not leaving this house,” Sam told you.

You looked to Bucky, but he was no help.

“Let them come here,” Steve said, and you glared at him.

You knew that by “them” he meant Peter. Before you could say anything to that, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. Opting to keep your mouth shut before you said anything you regretted, you simply walked upstairs to answer it.

“How did you get my number?”

You closed your door behind you.

“Your boss,” Peter answered, voice clipped, making your eyes widen. “Now, where are you?”

“I came by the house to get some things, and I didn’t know Bucky was going to be watching it.”

It was silent on the other end, and you could just imagine Peter rolling his eyes.

“They’re not letting me leave,” you told him.

You heard him say something on the other end, but it wasn’t directed at you. Your grip on your phone tightened when you suddenly heard the roar of motorcycles in the background.

“Peter, they want you all to come here. Steve wants _you_ to come here. Don’t,” you said.

“You’re not one of them anymore. You’re with us now, _me_ , and I’m coming to get you.”

“Peter-!”

You were cut off by your door swinging open. Your eyes connected with Steve’s, and you quickly hung up. You glared at him as he stood in the doorway, blocking your exit.

“What?”

His already taught face pinched even further, eyes narrowing as he stepped inside.

“What? _What?_ That’s all you have to say?”

“Is there something else I’m supposed to say?”

He huffed before letting out a humorless chuckle.

“If you were anyone else, you’d be labeled a traitor-.”

“For saving Sam? Seriously?” you demanded.

“For going to them for help! We take care of our own, and you went outside the crew. You sought help from the enemy,” he spat.

“Admit it, Steve. You had no idea what to do or where to even begin! Sam is here right now because of me,” you threw at him.

His tongue poked at the inside of his cheek as he looked down his nose at you, fire in his eyes.

“Yes…because you opened your legs for Parker,” he hissed. “That _is_ what you did, correct?”

You didn’t answer him, finding no need to. He took a step towards you.

“Was he good?”

Again, you didn’t respond, simply crossing your arms over your chest.

“He’d been sniffing around you for _weeks_ , trying to get in your pants, but I never thought you’d be _stupid_ enough to fall for it.”

You finally looked up at him.

“Stupid? Well, my _stupidity_ is the reason Sam is unharmed,” you scoffed. “I did more laying on my back for an hour than you did in an entire day.”

His nostrils flared, and you just knew that he was itching to put his hands on you. You went to move past him, but he caught your arm in an iron grip, pulling you close. He trailed his eyes over you.

“When Parker gets here, I’m going to put a knife through him for touching what doesn’t belong to him,” he whispered.

You jerked yourself out of his hold.

“He didn’t touch without permission. Maybe you could learn a thing or two from him,” you quietly said.

You turned away from him without a backwards glance.

  


Your heart sank when you eventually heard the roar of motorcycles approaching from down the street. You looked up with wide eyes from your place on the couch, nerves on end as you eyed the window. You clenched your jaw as Steve and Sam opened the door, leaving you alone with Bucky.

You glared at him as you stood, arms crossed over your chest as you paced. Your heart sped up when the familiar sound came closer, eventually right outside of the door. Nothing happened for a moment, and then it was silent. Bucky’s back was to you as you paced, blocking the kitchen, and you eyed him.

You noticed a familiar black weapon strapped to his hip, and you bit your lip. You knew that Bucky never put the safety on. Sam was always complaining about it. You had never used a gun a day in your life, but that didn’t stop you from swiftly snatching it from him. He turned to you with wide eyes as you pointed it at his face.

“I just don’t want anymore fighting. I just want to leave…”

“Y/N,” he warned.

“I did what I had to do to save Sam’s life. I made a deal with Peter and he in turn made one with Tony. It goes beyond just fucking him, you know,” you told him.

He sighed, disappointment in his eyes at your actions.

“I have a bargain to uphold, and if you all prevent me from doing that, things are going to get messy, and you know it.”

He didn’t reply.

“Why are you all being so stubborn about this?”

“Because you’re family! You’re one of us and now you’re suddenly not and that’s not okay,” he spat.

You swallowed.

“I’m sorry. I really am, but we can’t afford for things to become any worse than they already are. Now, I am going to grab my bags right there, and I am going to walk out of that backdoor and go into the front yard and get into my car. I will drive away, and you will let me.”

He glared at you, but stepped aside nonetheless. You kept your aim as you did what you said you would. You both knew that you wouldn’t actually shoot him…at least not in the face, but your uncharacteristic behavior gave Bucky pause. It made him doubt just a bit.

You turned to face him in the open doorway, slowly setting the gun down on the floor before turning and leaving. You ran around the house, eyes widening at the bikes in the yard. You took in familiar red hair and dark eyes and finally the head of brown hair that you’d been so used to seeing. Your eyes caught his from where you were standing beside the house, and you ran towards him as he opened your car door.

“Y/N!”

You ignored Sam but glanced up to see that Bucky had joined them outside now. Sam ran towards you, but Steve was faster. Nat stepped in his way, staring him down as he slowed, glaring down his nose at her. You threw your things into your car, glancing up in time to see Steve cut his eyes to Peter. Peter’s face was unreadable, dark eyes boring into Steve’s as you sat in the driver’s seat.

“Don’t give me a reason to finally punch those perfect teeth, Rogers,” you heard Nat say.

He clenched his jaw, hands placed on his hips as he reluctantly took a step back. Peter leaned down as you shoved your key into the ignition, hands shaking.

“Did he touch you?” he quietly asked.

You shook your head.

“N-no. Not really,” you answered, avoiding his eyes.

He didn’t respond, just blew out a deep breath before reaching in and playing with your hair. You hesitantly glanced up at him, and he briefly glanced at Steve, the corner of his pink lips slowly curving upwards into a small smirk.

“I know he thinks I’m going to kiss you. Hell, you probably do too,” he said, looking at you again, thumb brushing along your jaw. “…but I don’t need to prove to him that you’re mine. You just are.”

He pulled away and shut your door, walking towards his bike. You eyed him for a bit before finally starting your car. With one last apologetic look thrown Sam’s way, you pulled out of the yard. 

Naturally, you beat Peter to his house, and you sat in your car as you waited for him to pull in, hands still clenching the wheel. You turned your head as he parked beside you, unmoving. Somehow, you couldn’t get your body to do so. Reality was finally setting in, and you found it hard to breathe.

Sam was okay, but everyone knew the truth. They knew that you’d given yourself to Peter to make it so. They were furious with you, and despite the fact that Steve’s anger mostly came from his jealousy and possessiveness, he had indeed been right. In a sense, you were a traitor. It didn’t matter that what you did saved Sam’s life, you had still gone to the enemy for help.

You were crying when Peter opened your door, reaching for your hands and slowly prying them off of the wheel. He helped you out, and you stood on shaky legs. He steadied you, dark eyes studying you as you blinked away tears.

“You should’ve waited for me to go with you,” he murmured.

“I didn’t think anyone would be home. I thought I’d get in and out,” you quietly replied.

He sighed.

“What did Steve say to you?”

You shook your head, looking away.

“Nothing…that’s worth mentioning,” you mumbled, sliding from in between him and your car.

He stopped you by grabbing your wrist, and you looked over your shoulder at him. There was a frown on his boyish features.

“You worried about him?”

You hesitated.

“A little…yeah. He threatened to hurt you…”

Peter let out a small laugh.

“He can try,” he said with a smile.

You gave him a reproachful look.

“Parker…”

“Wilson.”

“I’m serious. Steve…he’s been after me for years. He won’t just get over it,” you told him.

Peter just threw his arm over your shoulders as he steered you towards the house.

“Let me deal with that. _We_ have more important things to talk about.”

“Like?” you wondered.

You hesitantly sat down on the couch as he shut the door. You were a bit unsure of how to behave around him now, how to behave in this new setting that was now yours as well. You’d slept here last night…naked. Peter saw you naked, he’d been inside of you. It was strange to think about. You looked up at him as he neared you, eyes serious.

“Mr. Stark wants to meet you tonight.”

Your eyes widened, but you shouldn’t have been shocked. It was bound to happen sooner or later.

“…oh.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets.

“…and…because you’re with me now, there is a bit of an initiation. We all have to go through one,” he continued.

“I see.”

That was to be expected.

“What is it?” you asked.

“Normally, Mr. Stark decides, but since he’s grooming me to take over, and since this is an interesting circumstance with you being the sister of an enemy and all… He’s leaving it up to me.”

You waited for him to continue. You watched him as he eyed you, dark eyes running over your frame, thoughtful.

“…I haven’t quite decided yet though. Although, I do have something in mind…”

You mumbled a quiet ‘oh’ and looked down. You felt awkward, and you shouldn’t have. You’d known Peter for years, and you two were never friends but it was never awkward between you. You didn’t know why that changed just because you had sex with him. Maybe it was the circumstances surrounding it… Why you’d done and what it had caused.

“Sam’s not angry with you. He’s angry with himself.”

You lifted your gaze to him, finding him still watching you.

“He’s angry that he got caught…that you felt you had to do what you did to save him when he should be the one saving you, protecting you,” he elaborated, sitting beside you. “He thinks he’s failed you.”

You leaned back into the couch, heart clenching.

“He’s protected me all my life, I couldn’t just _not_ do something. If I had left it to Steve…”

You trailed off, scoffing at the thought of the blond.

“You know…this might sound insane, but there’s a really small part of me that thinks Steve wouldn’t have tried his best to get Sam back. They’ve been friends forever, practically like brothers, but I was really scared he’d just leave him because if Sam wasn’t here, then he’d have easy access to me. Nothing would stop him from…”

Your words died in your throat with a sigh.

“I slept with you not just to get Sam back, but to get away from Steve once and for all,” you whispered.

You looked at Peter.

“Even though I basically hopped out of one frying pan and into another, when you kissed me last night…I felt like a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders.”

Peter reached out to brush his fingers over your collarbone as he faced you, brown eyes darkening.

“I’m not going to pretend like I made you that offer for your brother or even to save you from Steve…at least not in the sense that you’d think,” he quietly started.

His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

“I wanted you away from Steve because I wanted you all for myself.”

This was not shocking to you. It might have been a week ago, but you were learning that Peter was not at all who you thought he was. He was in Tony’s gang for a reason. Nat had told you that, and although you never doubted her, you didn’t understand the full weight of her advice then.

“Growing up, you were always Sam Wilson’s sister. Untouchable, and God did I want to touch you,” he brushed his lips against yours. “So, when you came to me, sad and hysterical and soaking wet, like some pathetic little puppy, I did what I could and said what I could to get my hands on you.”

He firmly pressed his mouth against yours, and you closed your eyes. He groaned against your lips as he pushed you back. You hesitantly placed your hands on his shoulders, parting your legs and allowing him to rest in between them.

“I really wanted you to be here when I got back today,” he whispered. “I wanted to get my hands on you again.”

Your only reply was a soft moan when his hands slid into the sweatpants that you’d borrowed from his bedroom floor.

“…but we have to get you ready for tonight,” he sighed, head falling against your shoulder.

“Peter, it’s hours away,” you said.

He lifted his head.

“I have to prepare you. Mr. Stark is a hard man to please, and just because you’re with me, that won’t guarantee him to like you.”

He helped you up and his words worried you. It must have been evident on your face because he ran his hands along your arms. He smirked at you.

“Don’t worry. I know him like the back of my hand,” he said pulling you along. “Do as I say, and you’ll be fine.”

He told you not to worry, but you couldn’t help it. In a matter of hours, you’d be face to face with Tony Stark himself, preparing to go through an initiation whose details were unknown to you. Peter said it was up to him to decide what it would be, and although that should’ve eased your worries bit, it didn’t.

  


Peter helped you off of his bike, and you stood on unsteady legs. The low kitten heels you had on felt strange on your feet, recalling that the last time you’d worn heels of any kind had been at prom. Peter let out a light laugh at your visible uneasiness.

“You good?” he asked with a grin.

You gave a shaky nod.

“Yeah,” you breathed.

Like most nights, the air was cool, and you shivered a bit. Peter had gotten you a dress to wear. It was white and light and flowy with a sweetheart neckline and thick straps that kept sliding down your shoulders no matter how much you adjusted it. It kissed the tops of your knees as you smoothed your hand over it.

“You look great,” he murmured in your ear as he wrapped an arm around your waist.

“I feel silly,” you confessed.

“Well don’t. You look good enough to eat,” he whispered, lips brushing along your ear.

You placed your hand on his, hoping it would bring you some comfort. You stared up at the house before you with unease. Tony Stark was the richest man in town, and in a small town like this, that meant more than you could imagine. His house was no mansion, but it definitely made your former modest two-story house look laughable in comparison.

The yard was littered with bikes, and even though Peter had told you that everyone in the club would be in attendance for your initiation, you realized that you had never known just how many people were in Tony’s crew. You assumed that Peter had made a decision regarding what it would be. He’d bought you a dress after all, but he had yet to share it with you.

You didn’t even have time to admire the interior, because the man himself was there as soon as you walked inside.

“…and this must be the bold little birdie who’s been stirring up trouble on my side of the road.”

Tony Stark’s dark eyes connected with yours, and despite the urge to look away, you remembered what Peter had said. You held his gaze, and he smirked at you. His hand wrapped around yours as he neared and brushed his lips along the skin there. His eyes met Peter’s when he pulled away, and his smirk grew.

“Mr. Stark,” you greeted.

He chuckled, looking at you again.

“Please, call me Tony. Between you and the kid, you’re going to make me feel like I have one foot in the grave.”

You chuckled with him, surprised to find that he didn’t seem as intimidating as you thought he would. His face gradually grew serious, and he folded his hands in front of him as he studied you.

“As you can probably guess, I have my reservations about you, Y/N,” he started.

You swallowed, and Peter rubbed circles into your back.

“You’re the sister of my enemy, and you know how the saying goes…blood is thicker than water and all that jazz…”

You nodded.

“I understand your fears, Tony, but…I’m here _because_ of my love for Sam,” you told him. “I did what I did to protect him, and I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that.”

He took a step towards you.

“I should hope not. I would hate to have to use your brother to keep you in line…”

You frowned.

“…and I would hate to have to use _you_ against _him_.”

Your heart skipped a beat, a possibility that you had never considered before being thrown in your face. Tony stared you down for a moment before he eventually grinned.

“Let’s hope that tonight you can prove you fully belong to Peter, and the crew in general by extension, so that it won’t have to come to that,” he said with a light laugh

He turned and walked down a hall.

“Come along,” he called.

Peter’s hand never left you once as you both followed Tony. You felt like you were a dead woman walking, and although Peter’s presence should’ve been comforting, not knowing what tonight entailed put you on edge. You blinked when Peter’s hand slid lower to the small of your back, just above the swell of your butt.

Tony slowed when he neared a set of double doors, and you felt like you were going to be sick when he opened them. There couldn’t have been more than 30 people standing in the room, but it felt like hundreds. You were the only one dressed up while everyone else wore their jackets and t-shirts, Peter included. You whispered this to him.

“You’re the guest of honor,” he simply said with a genuine smile.

Your eyes landed on some familiar faces as Peter led you to the center of the room. A long oval table was before you, almost the entire length of the room with about two dozen chairs surrounding it. You absentmindedly wondered if this was where they held meetings. Peter slowed as Tony made his way to the head of the table, and you looked to your left, nervously eyeing it. You looked to Peter, feeling his gaze on you.

His dark eyes were hooded, reminding you of last night when he’d cornered you in his house. You suddenly felt very hot, and he stepped closer, chest brushing against yours.

“Get on the table,” he whispered.

Your eyes widened, stomach churning as suspicions started to arise.

“…what?”

You glanced over at movement in the corner of your eye, watching as Tony pulled out the chair at the head of the table. His eyes briefly met yours, and he threw you a smirk. Peter’s hands were on your face, turning you to face him.

“I told you this was a special case…”

“Peter-.”

“Most people join with a clean slate, but not you. You were the enemy before you even walked in here-.”

“So what? I have to be made an example out of?” you demanded, lips trembling and eyes misty.

Your voices were hushed, and you could feel Tony’s eyes on you. You could feel a lot of eyes on you, just waiting for you to prove them right. Peter’s hands trailed down to your throat, thumbs tracing your skin as he looked down his nose at you.

“You’re mine. I know it, and you know it…” before you knew it, he’d reached down and deposited you on the table, stepping in between your legs “…and now they will too.”

He pressed his lips against yours, and you made a noise of protest. One hand was on the back of your neck while the other pressed into your waist, pushing you down. You winced when your back harshly met the wood, hands pressing against his chest.

His hands never stayed in one place for too long, and when the memories of last night came to you, your body reacted. You trembled beneath him, a few tears spilling over as you registered what was about to happen in front of these people.

“They’re not here, right now. It’s just you and me,” he whispered, trying to reassure you.

You shook your head.

“Peter, I can’t do this. We can do something else,” you said, pushing against him.

With a huff, he grabbed your wrists and slammed them against the table. You gasped in pain, and his tongue found yours when he kissed you again. You struggled against him, but his chest and hips pinned you down. From above your head, you heard Tony sit down, and soon the sound of more people sitting down reached your ears.

Peter kept his mouth on yours, swallowing your cries as he moved both of your wrists to one hand. The other reached in between you as he pushed his thighs underneath your own. You closed your eyes and turned your head away when the sound of tearing fabric filled the room. You couldn’t open them, if you did, you’d see the many faces staring back at you. Your struggle was anew when you heard the sound of his belt clanking.

“Come on, Y/N,” he whispered in your ear. “Moan for me like you did last night…”

He pushed himself into you, and your breath caught in your throat. He set a sharp pace, hips slamming into yours as he fucked you against the hardwood. Your shoe slipped off of your feet, and it clanged against the table. The other soon followed.

You felt air on your breast, and you hadn’t realized that Peter had reached up to pull the top of your dress down. His teeth grazed over the sensitive flesh, and you couldn’t stop yourself from clenching around him. His lips moved to your collarbone and then your neck, and he let out a low chuckle.

Your head was thrown back as he thrust into you, the table shaking from the force of it. You only realized that he’d let go of your hands when both of his dug into the skin of your thighs, hard enough to bruise. Your own hands gripped his shoulders, now unsure if you wanted to push him away or pull him closer.

He wrapped his lips around a hardened bud, and you arched your chest towards him. Your eyelashes fluttered, vision blurry, but you could make out the upside-down shape of Tony Stark, watching you. Peter clearly wanted all of your attention because his hand found your hair and jerked your face back to him.

He forced his lips against yours, groaning into your mouth. His other hand pressed into the table beside your head, holding himself over you as he curved his hips into yours over and over again. You forgot all about the other 20 odd people or so, sitting around the table, watching. Like last night, you couldn’t swallow down your moans, no matter how hard you tried.

Your stomach tightened, and your legs started to tremble. Your arm was thrown over his neck, the other pushing against the table, trying to get closer to him for several reasons.

“Half the men in here want to be me, right now,” he murmured against your lips. “Show them that you’re mine…”

He snapped his hips against yours, hard, and you yelped into his mouth.

“Say my name like you did last night…”

You bit your lip, determined to swallow it down. His heavy breathing sounded in your ear.

“Come on, Y/N,” he dragged it out with a soft chuckle. “I’ve already got you _squirming_ for me. I’ll get what I want eventually.”

“I fucking hate you, Parker,” you groaned.

“That’s nice,” he dismissed. “You’re like a kitten, you know? You put up a fight, and its _cute_ , but you start purring the minute I get my hands on you.”

He reached down and brushed his thumb over you, making you jerk beneath him. He did it again and again, picking up the pace of his thrusts, and your breath hitched. Your vision grew hazy, chest and stomach tightening as stars burst behind your eyes. You mumbled his name over and over again, drawing it out in a low moan as your back hit the table again.

He had yet to halt his movements, fucking you through your climax as he maneuvered one of your legs to rest on his shoulder. He kissed you.

“When this is over, everyone will look at the sister of the infamous Sam Wilson and know that she’s mine.”


End file.
